


in pieces

by myrosebudboy



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrosebudboy/pseuds/myrosebudboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>simon and baz live next to each other. simon escapes to baz's house when he can't stand his parents fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in pieces

“Shut up!” His mother’s voice cracks, and the sound is agony.

His father’s voice cuts across hers. “No, Lucy, _you_ shut up! You’re being stupid and unreasonable about this whole thing-”

“Me?” She screeches, and her voice is shaking, and so is Simon, pulling his blanket around him and gripping so tightly at the edges that his knuckles are stark white. “It’s not me, Davy, you’re the unreasonable one here, do you even think-”

“Do _I_ think? Do _I_ think?” His father interrupts her again, and his voice shoots through the house that Simon can almost believe that his father is right beside him and not down a whole flight of stairs. “How about you? How _could_ you? I thought we were in this together. I thought you said you would always stay _by my side_.”

She’s crying, now; he can hear it in her voice. “Your side, Davy, I’m on your side, not on the side of a raving lunatic! Are you even hearing yourself?”

“That’s _enough_!” He roars, and Simon shudders, because he can hear his mother’s sobbing and can feel his father’s burning anger and he wants to be anywhere but here. “Shut your damn mouth, Lucy! What do you know about anything I’m trying to do, anyway?”

“I know that you’re going to get everyone around us killed!”

Simon pulls out his phone from under his pillow and taps furiously at the keyboard. The letters blur together before his eyes.

_baz?_

The reply comes almost immediately. _yeah?_

_can i stay the night at your house?_

He can almost see Baz frowning, perplexed. _is everything okay?_

Something smashes, downstairs, and he winces. _no._

_they’re fighting again?_

Simon lets out a long breath. _yeah._

A pause. He counts thirty seconds and two more things that sound like they’ve been broken. _daphne says okay._

He scribbles a quick note about where he’s gone and leaves it on his bed, then carefully slides his window open and clambers out, landing softly on the small stretch of pavement outside his house. He shuts the window again and he’s not even wearing shoes but it doesn’t matter because in less than two minutes he’s knocking on the door of Baz’s house.

Two heartbeats pass, and Baz opens the door and grabs his arm, pulling him in. “Do you need supper or anything?”

“No, thanks,” is Simon’s automatic response; he doesn’t like intruding too much on Baz’s family.

“But you want food anyway,” Baz guesses, throwing him a small biscuit tin. Simon nearly drops it. “Sorry we don’t have anything else at the moment.”

They make their way to Baz’s room, and Simon sits down on the bed without any invitation - they’ve been doing this since they were kids. It’s always the same. He’ll hear them yelling and listen until he can’t take it anymore, and then he’ll go to Baz. And Baz is always there. The Grimm-Pitches know about it, too, but Simon’s parents never admit anything’s wrong outside the walls of their home.

Baz sits down beside him. “Three hours?”

Simon bites into a biscuit without really tasting it. “Maybe.”

Baz says nothing, just hands Simon a cup of tea. Simon looks up.

“Daphne wants you to drink it,” Baz tells him, and Simon mumbles his thanks. They sit in silence for a little while. Simon cherishes it.

“I think they broke something,” he says suddenly, his voice hoarse.

Baz takes the now-empty cup from Simon and sets it on his bedside table. Simon’s hands are shaking again.

“Hey,” Baz whispers, and Simon turns to face him, dully, tiredly. “Go to sleep, yeah?”

Simon nods, and they both curl up under the blanket on Baz’s bed.

(Baz hogs most of the blanket. Simon pulls it towards himself.

“That’s my blanket, Snow,” Baz murmurs.

Simon’s lips curl into a tiny smile.)


End file.
